Inside Your Soul
by rubydesires
Summary: Lassie's acting a little strange and he seems to know an awful lot about the vic.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Inside Your Soul**  
**Author: rubydesires**  
**Fandom: Psych**  
**Pairing: Shassie (although technically it would be Shassan)**  
**Rating: T for now.**  
**Disclaimer: No own Psych. I do own Megan**  
**Summary: Lassie's acting a little strange and he seems to know an awful lot about the vic.**  
**Note: Okay, this is the result of a plot bunny taking up residence in my mind, and Lassie (who's actually a pretty interesting muse) thought it might be fun. So if you want more, let me know. Unfortunately, I won't be able to write anything else (okay, you should read that as "shouldn't write anything else") this week cuz I have an essay due at the end of this week that I wasn't quite aware of. Meaning I thought I had more time. I hate college.

Head Detective Carlton Lassiter was late. Not like five minutes late. Like Juliet had to call him to get his ass to the station before Vick did. Not only was he late, but he looked like he'd been run over by a truck. Understandably, Juliet was worried. So she called the one person who would be able to figure out what was wrong with him but also return him to his normal self.

Shawn looked at the detective, genuinely worried. He hadn't approached him yet. He wanted to get some more info first. This seemed like a time where delicacy was called for.

"Well?"

Shawn blinked and looked at Juliet. "Hm?"

"Do you, y'know, sense anything?"

He looked back at Lassiter and frowned. He was at his desk, twirling a pen through his fingers and staring at the computer screen, his face empty of all emotion. There were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept in days, and his pale skin made them stand out even more. His body seemed far too relaxed, aside from the almost manic movement of the pen. His eyes were the worst. They seemed haunted; like Lassiter had lost everything he ever had and was expecting his life to end any moment.

"I can't tell," Shawn said quietly. "There's something. But I can't tell what it is. Has he said anything?"

Juliet was watching her partner as well. "No. Aside from apologizing . . . nothing."

"He apologized?"

"Yeah. That's when I knew something was really wrong."

Shawn wasn't able to ask anything else because a call came in for a possible murder, and Vick had Lassiter and Juliet check it out. After Juliet had called his name, something of the man seemed to come back and he led the way to the car. Shawn followed, and was shocked when Lassie didn't say anything about it. When they got to the crime scene, they found a young woman not even 22 years old. She was lying in the middle of the living room, blood staining the carpet. Her blue eyes, almost the same shade as Lassiter's, were wide and staring.

"Lassie!"

Lassiter had nearly fallen, catching himself on the wall, and Shawn was immediately there. He didn't even question his concern for the older man. Lassiter was breathing hard and seemed on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

"Lassie? Come on, man, what's wrong?" Shawn had taken Lassiter's face in his hands to make him look at him.

"Shawn." Lassiter's voice came out broken and it scared the fake psychic. His eyes opened, and they were terrified. "Shawn, you have to promise me you'll help find who did this."

"All right, fine. I promise."

"You don't mean it."

"Carlton, I promise you I will help find who did this."

They stared at each other for a moment before Lassiter gave a jerky nod. He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, no doubt trying to regain control. Shawn exchanged a glance with Juliet before his gaze when to the dead girl. The one who seemed to have Lassie's eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Wow, I got a ton of feedback on this. So that's why I've decided to update this one since I finished my essay.

**xxxxx**

Shawn had insisted he be present when the detectives spoke with the girl's parents. They had called Mr. and Mrs. Howlett and had them come to the precinct to identify the girl. The mother had taken one look at the body and immediately started sobbing and turned to bury her face in her husband's chest while he wrapped his arm around her. Shawn had watched Lassiter throughout the exchange, and was worried to find he looked heartbroken. There was something between Lassiter and the victim. Some form of relationship, and Shawn was afraid he knew what it was. He looked at the mother again. Her daughter looked just like her. Except for the eyes. Those blue eyes that looked like Lassie's.

"Do you know what happened to my Megan?" the mother asked once they were in the interrogation room.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Howlett, but we have no leads as of yet," Juliet said. "We were hoping you might be able to help us. Did she have any enemies?"

"Enemies? She was only 21! How could she possibly have any enemies?"

"We know it was a murder. The knife wounds prove it. What we're trying to figure out now is who could have done it."

Shawn raises his hand. "I think the better question is why she has blue eyes when both you have brown ones."

"Spencer," Lassiter said with a growl, "that question has no relevance."

"It has all kinds of relevance!"

"Brown eyes are dominate, moron. If their eyes were blue and Megan's were brown, then the question would be relevant. Since that is not the case here, it doesn't have any impact."

Shawn narrowed his eyes. Lassiter had referred to the victim by her first name. That was not his style.

Lassiter continued the questioning. "If she didn't have any enemies, was there anyone who didn't like her? Anyone who would want to see her hurt?" His voice trailed off for a moment before adding, "Did she have a stalker?"

The mother was quiet, staring at the older detective. "Yes," she said after a moment. "She met him on that writing site she used. We never did manage to find out who he really was, but she kept a file of all the correspondences she had with him. It's on her laptop. Unfortunately, we don't know her password. She liked to keep her privacy, and we let her do so."

Lassiter nodded. "We'll look into it. If we have any more questions or if we find anything, we'll let you know." They stood and shook hands with the detectives and as they were walking out, the father turned to Lassiter.

"Please. Find who took my daughter from me."

"We will."

After the parents had left, Lassiter, Juliet, and Shawn were in the briefing room. Megan's laptop was on the table, with the Windows login screen up. Before Juliet and Shawn could realize what he was doing, Lassiter typed in the password and her desktop popped up.

"How—"

"It was goddess53," Lassiter interrupted Juliet. "I guess the file we want is 'stalker_file'?" he asked, looking at the icons over the image of horses running on the beach.

"Sounds good to me."

Lassiter clicked the file and opened up the documents. "Wow. This guy is . . ."

"Nuts," Shawn finished, reading over Lassiter's shoulder.

"I think we need to talk to this shadowseeker48."

**xxx**

Finding the stalker's identity was going to take some time, so Lassiter had gone home to get some rest. He looked like death warmed over and Vick had told him to go home and she'd have Juliet call him when they needed him. But until then, he had the rest of the day off. When he got home, the detective went straight to his bed, stopping only long enough to take off his shoes and holster. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

The images that flashed through his mind as he slept were jumbled, out of order, but far too real to simply be dreams. And when he woke only four hours later, he felt more tired than he had before he went to sleep. He had also slept on his neck wrong and now there was a crick that turned into a sharp pain when he turned his head to far. He also had a major craving for beef enchiladas.

One short trip to the store later, Lassiter was in his kitchen reading the directions on the can of enchilada sauce.

_**There's an easier way.**_

Lassiter froze. That voice in his head was definitely not his. And he had never heard it before. No, that wasn't entirely true. He'd heard it in his sleep.

"No. That's ridiculous. There's a simple explanation. I've finally snapped."

_**He-e-e-ell no! I am way too awesome to be some figment of your imagination. Look, dude, I don't know what the hell happened. One moment, I'm in my apartment working on a story, and the next moment I'm in your goddamn head!**_

"I am not a _dude_—"

_**Fine! Carlton—and what the hell kinda name is **__**Carlton**__** any way? It's like . . . tons of Carl.**_

"Then what's your name?"

The female voice was quiet for a moment. _**I'll tell you after we make our enchiladas.**_

Lassiter reluctantly followed her directions, and forty minutes later, he had layered beef enchiladas. He eyed it for a moment, not entirely sure how to react to this casserole style of making them. However, after she coaxed him to take a bite, all doubt vanished.

"Oh my god."

_**Delicioso?**_

"Extremely!"

He could tell she was pleased with his answer. _**My name is Megan, by the way. Megan Howlett.**_

**xxxxx**

**AN: **Who saw that coming?


End file.
